


A Twelve-Legged Matchmaker

by shireness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Captain Cobra - Freeform, Captain Swan Pupstravaganza (Once Upon a Time), F/M, Halloween, and a Very Good Puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-25 00:36:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21108575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shireness/pseuds/shireness
Summary: Killian Jones has an undeniable crush on Emma Swan. He just needs a little nudge from man's best friend to act on it.





	A Twelve-Legged Matchmaker

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is - my entry for the CS Pupstravaganza! Thanks to @profdanglaisstuff for organizing this great event.
> 
> Rated T for mild language. Thanks (as always) to my A+ beta, @snidgetsafan.
> 
> Enjoy!

When Killian Jones decided that he’d like a pet - a dog, specifically - Bonny was not exactly what he’d had in mind.

It wasn't like he had a particular dog in mind when he went to the local shelter; mostly, he’d trusted an acquaintance who worked at the kennel would steer him towards a companion that would suit him best. David had suggested the idea in the first place when Killian had expressed loneliness after Liam had moved to Providence for a job,  and had seemed more than happy to help. That's not to say that he didn't have an idea of the type of dog he was looking for; a puppy, something that would grow up to be at least midsize and not shed too much. A man's dog who he could take on runs and hikes and his boat. Maybe a labrador. 

Bonny, however, has different ideas.

Bonny technically shouldn't have been in the side room where all the puppies romped around - she was full grown at three years, after all - but her size hadn't looked too out of place. Long-haired dachshunds didn't get that large after all, unless you were measuring in spine length. He'd been sat on the floor, letting all the wee pups come and check him out and contemplating the pros and cons of a labrador-weimaraner mix when Bonny had sauntered right over to curl up in his lap. One look into those big eyes, especially when coupled with those soft and floppy ears, and Killian had known he'd be going home with a very different dog than he’d expected. So he'd filled out the paperwork and bought all kinds of supplies and explained to a very attentive dog that a man has his limits and referring to his dog as Precious was a line he just wasn't willing to cross, and the little dog had been his. Bonny, after the fierce lady pirate Anne Bonny. A proper sailor's name for a less-than-proper sailor's dog.

(He will say, his good girl had taken to the water like a pro; there's a whole album on his phone after their six months together of Bonny on the Jolly's deck, all decked out in her life jacket. Yes, he's now a man that dresses his dog in a life jacket. No, he doesn't care what you have to say about that.)

Bonny may not have been the dog he expected to adopt, but there's no doubt that she's the right dog for him. She's an affectionate little thing, a true cuddle bug at heart, and even if he has to wrestle half his bed back from her - really, his dog takes up an absurd amount of space for such a small creature - he wouldn't have it any other way. There's just something about the trust that she so obviously has in him and the way her entire back half wiggles with the force of her happiness when he comes home after a long day of work. 

(There’s also the added bonus that she’s already housetrained; the details of that process weren’t at the front of Killian’s mind when he first decided that he wanted a puppy.)

There's other unexpected advantages that come along with pet guardianship as well - namely the ability to get closer to his stunning blonde neighbor.

Before anyone makes any mistaken assumptions, it's not like that. He didn't adopt the dog as a ploy to pick up chicks - though he has to admit, if that was his aim, he couldn't have picked a better dog and a worse target. Emma Swan lives two doors down in a little cottage with her young son - Henry, if he remembers the name correctly. He'd been smitten from the moment the moving truck had pulled up. That's how he'd met David too, actually, his acquaintance at the kennel. He's still a little uncertain about the relationship there, but he knows that David has a tendency towards the overprotective where the lovely blonde is concerned. 

Emma has been wary of his advances, though, not that he can blame her; with Henry involved and the lad's father nowhere in sight, she's got all the more reason to protect her heart. He'd tried his usual flirting techniques when they'd first started crossing paths - the charm, the smirk, the swagger, the little innuendos women usually love - but she'd shut that down with a cold tone and an unamused look in her eyes. After that... well, it had seemed most gentlemanly to let sleeping dogs lie. He'd tried his best, she clearly wasn't interested, and that would have to be that.

Still. He yearns, in a way that isn't at all befitting of anyone above the age of fifteen - let alone a grown man of thirty. She's lovely and strong and he can't help but be absolutely taken with everything about her. 

It's a happy coincidence that the park he likes to take Bonny to for walks just happens to be the same park where Emma takes Henry to the playground. He swears. He didn't even know that was the case until he decided that Bonny could use a little socializing with creatures of her own species, something that she's definitely not getting in their little neighborhood. 

(Yes, he's turned into the most obnoxious dog dad. He is fully aware.)

As he said before, even once he knew that the park and playground were one of the Swan's regular haunts, he wasn't using Bonny as some sort of bait. He'd never dare - both because he'd never disrespect his Very Good Girl like that and because he knows Emma would see right through him immediately. The thing is, Henry's at just that perfect age where he's absolutely fascinated by puppies of all sizes -  _ especially _ Bonny. As hesitant as Emma obviously is about her son's obvious enthusiasm, it's equally obvious that the little dog adores the toddler right back. Now, three months after Killian first started taking Bonny to the park, the two are thick as thieves; Henry's laugh rings out across the park's grassy green spaces as the two romp and chase each other, Bonny's entire back half wiggling in her excitement. It's also a chance for Killian to get to know Emma a little better. He wouldn't say that they're friends at the end of it, but there's a detente for certain. Maybe on an optimistic day, he'd even say that they were friendly. It's not something they've talked about, per se, but he definitely feels like some of the ice has thawed. 

"Thanks for this," she tells him quietly one day as they watch Henry frolic about the open space and Bonny chase along after him, making a fool of herself practically tripping over her elongated back half in her loving eagerness to play with the small human.

"What for?" Killian asks. It doesn't quite track; he's not doing particularly much, beyond sitting on a bench in varying amounts of silence with his lovely neighbor. What a hardship. 

"For letting Henry play with your dog," she replies, nodding in the direction of the spectacle. "Henry  _ really _ wants a dog right now, and... well, we just can't afford it, honestly. There are months where it feels like enough of a victory to have kept Henry well-fed. Doesn't mean he's good about understanding that," she laughs. It sounds forced, like she's trying unnecessarily to lighten the mood; Killian doesn't much like it. "So... thank you, I guess, for being so understanding about letting him get his fix. I appreciate it."

"It's no problem, lass," Killian responds with a small smile. "And before you try to protest, it seriously isn't. You are - or rather, Henry is doing me a favor, wearing her out a bit. It means I'll just have a sweet, sleepy cuddle bug when I get home, which will be a nice change than her usual running around the house and trying to figure out if she wants in or out. Sweet thing just can't figure it out," he chuckles.

"Henry's the same way - the sleepiness, not the inside or outside thing," she laughs. It seems real this time, which Killian appreciates. She deserves to have more reasons to smile. "He gets home and practically just collapses - no arguing about naptime or anything, which is a pretty novel concept, let me tell you. Maybe that's what I should be thanking you for - letting your dog wear my kid out. It takes some doing, seriously."

"Ah, well, I'm always happy to help," Killian replies awkwardly with an even more awkward wink. He's not especially good about accepting this type of compliment - or any really. Still, it seems less gentlemanly at this point not to. "Anything for milady."

(In retrospect, he should have asked her to dinner at that point - as a date, as friends, as just two adults and a three-year-old eating lasagna, whatever. He just wants an excuse to see her outside of this park. That was his chance, while they were still in the middle of their rapport, and he blatantly missed it. Stupid, oblivious bastard. Time with only tell if he gets another opportunity.)

There are still things to look forward to, even as the weather turns colder and the leaves turn a multitude of colors. Bonny and Henry seem to be the only ones who aren't bothered by the shift in the weather; temperatures change fairly dramatically, up here in coastal Maine. The weather isn't what makes the appeal of this season, however. This year, that designation belongs to Halloween.

"Henry is  _ so _ excited," Emma explains as they watch Henry clamber up the playground's structure; for once, Killian's crazy dog is curled at his and Emma's feet instead of chasing after her favorite toddler. Maybe she's actually learned how poorly adapted she is to the playground equipment. "He's going to be a pirate, if he hasn't shouted it in your face yet. What are you guys going to do?"

"Oh, I've got a plan in mind," Killian replies vaguely. It's not true in the least; Killian had rather forgot about the holiday until just now. But there's no way he can disappoint his favorite little swashbuckler either, leaving Killian stuck. At least for the moment. 

Which is how they've ended up here: one grown adult man, a bowl of candy, and his absurdly-shaped dog, now with twelve legs as the eight octopus limbs of her costume comically jangle every time she moves. She's a kraken. He found the knit, tentacled abomination of a sweater on Etsy. Somehow, the get-up makes her look even less threatening, which Killian didn't think was possible. Granted, her little matching hat featuring eyes poking out of her forehead doesn't help the picture. Killian isn't much for costumes himself, but damn if he won't dress his ridiculous little dog.

“Now we’re going to be very good and not run out the door, no matter how long it’s open, right?” he asks Bonny, more seriously than anyone would likely believe. So he talks to his dog; so what? Bonny, for her part, does a very good job of sitting calmly enough at his feet, though her tail wags ferociously.

He’ll take that as an agreement.

“Alright, then, let’s go! Let’s go see all the little kiddies!” he coos, patting at his leg until the little pup springs back to her feet. Not that it takes much prodding; despite her size, Bonny has all the energy of a coiled spring. Eagerly, she follows him to his small entryway, where Killian has set up a camp chair just inside the screen door. Killian knows from past years that the crowds of trick-or-treaters come in waves - fairly steady throughout the night, but with pauses in between where he hopes to maybe catch up on the mystery novel he’d checked out from the library. 

He doesn’t have to wait very long; by 6:30, the trickle of princesses and ninjas and devils begins, all here to pillage his candy (an excellent mix of Reese’s and 3 Musketeers and Milky Ways, with a bag of Twizzlers thrown in for good measure; never let him be accused of being the lame house in his neighborhood). Bonny, of course, is a hit; he can tell that she wants to leap all over their little visitors, begging for scritches and maybe a sample from their candy bags, but she stays put when Killian reminds her to stay inside. Truly, the  _ best _ girl. 

By the end of the evening, however, he’s anxious; it’s almost eight, the proper trick-or-treaters have trickled off as teenagers in half-assed costumes who just want free candy take their place, and he  _ still  _ hasn’t seen Emma. Not that she and Henry are obligated to come by his house or anything - of course they’re not. Maybe they decided to cut the night short, or maybe (God forbid) Henry came down with something and they couldn’t come out at all. Or maybe they just decided to skip his house. Whatever. It’s fine, absolutely fine. That’s their prerogative. He’d just hope, after all Henry’s talk of his wonderful pirate costume, he’d maybe get to see it in person. 

(That is the reason he put Bonny in a kraken sweater, of all things. It wasn’t exactly a coincidence - rather, a planned coordination.)

Of course, the moment he starts accepting that the Swans just aren’t coming, the dynamic duo themselves begin making their way up his walk. Henry’s costume is everything he’d promised it would be, complete with a bandana and a drawn-on mustache and fake buckles on his light-up sneakers and a hook on his hand. Emma herself isn’t quite as decked out, but even she’s sporting a pair of cat ears and some eyeliner whiskers.

“Sorry we’re so late,” she calls as they approach his porch. “We went over to David’s neighborhood for trick-or-treating. They’ve got the good candy, supposedly.”

“Ah, naturally,” Killian smiles back. “I hope you didn’t cut your fun short, you didn’t have to drop by,” he tries to protest, but Emma waves him off.

“Henry was wearing out anyways. Plus you’re, like, two houses down from ours. It’s not exactly a hardship to make such a long trek.”

"Well I’m happy you did," Killian says, before opening the door wide and stepping aside. "Would you like to come in for a few minutes? The trick-or-treaters have mostly trickled off. I could make us a few cups of hot chocolate."

"That'd be nice. Thanks, Killian," she smiles back, helping Henry up the last few steps.

"Arrrrrr," the little boy growls ferociously. He's certainly committed to the pirate act; he even tries to shake his hook at Killian, but the effect is kind of ruined when the plastic appendage flies off to land at Killian's feet.

"I don't know about pirates, though," Killian teases with a wink at Emma. "Can I really trust such a fearsome pirate captain in my house?"

"That's a good point," Emma replies thoughtfully, playing along. "They are kind of known for pillaging. Will a pirate really be able to behave himself inside?"

"Yeah!" Henry's little voice pipes up from thigh level.

Killian keeps it going. "I've got a nice set of bookends in there; you don't think the captain would try and steal them, do you?"

"You know, I don't know. It might be better if only I came in."

"Now, I'll never say no to time alone with you, Swan," he replies saucily. It's pretty obvious that Emma almost certainly didn't think about her words first, and definitely didn't mean them that way; the sudden pops of pink on her cheeks are proof enough of that. "Come in, then. You know, I'll bet that pirates don't like hot chocolate anyways..."

"I do!" Henry says indignantly. Well, at least as indignantly as a three year old can manage. Which is a lot, all things considered. "It's me, Killy!"

"Me who?"

"Henry!"

Killian makes a show of crouching down and squinting, as if to see beneath the makeup. "Well look at that, it  _ is _ Henry! You've got such a good costume, I didn't even recognize you with all that on. Do Henrys like hot chocolate, then?"

"Yeah!"

"Alright, you can come in too, then," Killian laughs, ruffling his hand along the boy's hair as he stands up.

As the Swans walk into his entryway and he closes the screen door again, Bonny wanders back in from the kitchen, undoubtedly drawn by the noise. Personally, Killian thinks she makes a very adorable sight with all those tentacles bobbing and swaying and dragging as she walks.

Henry, however, seems to disagree, as he catches one sight of Killian's wee beastie and hides back behind Emma, clutching at her leg. It's definitely not the reaction that Killian expected, especially when Henry usually gets along so well with Bonny.

"It's alright, it's just Bonny," Emma tries to tell him, dropping her voice into that soothing tone Killian's come to associate with motherhood and love and a home he's long since lost. 

"It's just a costume," Killian explains, though he does also crouch down to catch Bonny by her collar and keep her from barreling forward like he can already tell she wants to. Quickly, he undoes the velcro on the hat and tugs it off; it probably does look a little alarming to young eyes. "See?"

"She's just playing pretend, kiddo. Just like you are."

Henry still looks a little wary, but Bonny is about ready to wiggle out of Killian's grasp in her excitement to see her favorite little boy, so he quickly scoops her up to bring her to Henry in a more controlled manner. 

Once Bonny's familiar pink tongue flicks out to kiss at Henry's hands and face, he relaxes, thank goodness. "You're silly, Bonny!" he giggles. 

"Well she wanted to dress to match you, lad," Killian smiles, setting the pup down so boy and beast can wrestle and play.

"She really does make a cute sea monster," Emma chuckles as they watch.

“About as well behaved as one too, some days,” Killian grumbles without any heat. It’s hard to really mean it when Bonny is so obviously good with Henry. “Let’s go to the kitchen, I’ll make you that hot chocolate.”

The kitchen is just a few steps from the living room where Henry and Bonny now play and with a clear line of sight into the other room, so he knows they won’t have to worry about the little rascals escaping their supervision. Not that there’s much to get into; the liquor and the matches are in the kitchen, and he’s not aware of anything he’d need to worry about the devious duo breaking. The living room is only filled with shelves and shelves of books. About the worst either one could do is disrupt a stack of coffee table books, and some of those would probably benefit from having pages torn out; the “Mailboxes of the Northeast” book that Belle gifted him is a real head scratcher.

“Sorry about all that,” Killian tells Emma sheepishly, scratching behind his ear in mild embarrassment. “I thought it would be a fun idea to kind of tie Bonny’s costume into Henry’s, since I knew how excited he was, but that obviously backfired. I didn’t mean to scare him, Emma, truly.”

Killian pours all his sincerity into the words, but Emma just waves him off casually. “Killian, it’s fine. He’s three, there’s going to be things that scare him sometimes, and sometimes they’ll be pretty weird. That’s kids. You couldn’t have predicted that, and it’s not your fault. And anyways,” she nods towards her son in the other room with a fond smile, “it doesn’t look like it did any permanent damage, if the way they’re carrying on in your living room is any indication.”

“That’s true,” Killian has to admit. The way Henry and Bonny are alternately chasing one another around doesn’t exactly suggest a traumatized child. “Well, I just wanted to… make sure, I guess, that you knew I didn’t mean to scare him.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t think that.” They lapse into silence as Killian busies himself with all the necessities of making hot chocolate - collecting milk from the fridge, grabbing a trio of mugs, searching at the back of the cupboard for the tin of good Ghirardelli powder. It’s a special occasion to have the Swans in his kitchen, after all, and they only deserve the best. He’s just finishing measuring out the proper amount of milk into the saucepan - go big or go home, right, and using the microwave is decidedly  _ not _ going big - when Emma speaks again.

“I actually meant to thank you for being so good with Henry. I know all that back there wasn’t exactly what you expected when you invited us inside, but you did good. Helping to calm him down, I mean. Though even before that, with the playing and teasing about his costume… you’re really good with him.”

“Oh, Swan, you don’t need to thank me for that.” Even as Killian protests, he can feel a flush of pleased embarrassment creeping up his neck. “Thank you, but it’s not necessary. Henry’s a wonderful lad, a real credit to you.”

Emma blows past the compliment, though he does detect the slightest flush on her cheeks. “Maybe you don’t think it’s much, but it means a lot to me. Henry… there’s not really a lot of male role models in his life. Obviously, his dad’s not in the picture, so it’s pretty much just David. A lot of guys… most guys don’t really want to step up like that.”

“It’s my pleasure, Emma,” Killian replies, smiling gently. This almost feels like the beginning of a moment in a way that he hadn’t expected when they’d started this conversation. A part of him wants to seize on that feeling - to step into her space further, to brush that stray lock of hair back behind her ear, to let their hands just barely graze. It’s terrifying to take that step, though, when he knows that could break apart whatever understanding they’ve reached in their weeks at the park.

Killian thinks that Emma must be of the same mind, as he can see her swallow nervously before she continues again. “I actually wanted to ask you —”

He never finds out what Emma wanted to ask him, however, as right at that moment, Henry and Bonny burst into the kitchen, chasing each other around his and Emma’s legs and forcing them closer into each other’s space. It’s like a moment out of some cliche movie, and Killian can barely breathe for the anticipation of it all, his hands somehow braced against Emma’s upper arms as she stares back at him with eyes blown wide. It’s too close, and not close enough, and he really out to step back out of her space now that the little rascals have run back into the living room — 

But then Emma presses up on her toes to drop a gentle kiss on his lips, and all the frantic thoughts running through his head disappear. It’s just a quick little thing - barely a brush of her lips against his - but something about the tentative gesture feels like trust, feels like a different commitment. It feels like hope. 

“That was…” Killian tries to say, not certain of any of his words in truth, no real idea of how that sentence ends.  _ Amazing? Unexpected? Life-changing? _

“I was wondering if you’d want to get dinner sometime,” Emma finishes on a rush. Her cheeks are tinted the most charming shade of pink, but she doesn’t seem nervous about the asking - more settled, like she finally knows what she wants and how to get it. Luckily for her, he wants the same.

“I’d love that, Swan.” Like there’s any other answer.

“Well then… good.”

“Good.” As they stand in the kitchen, smiling like fools, Killian can’t help the absolutely silly thought that crosses his mind:

_ Bonny’s earned herself an awful lot of treats. _

(After her clever efforts to push him and Emma together - literally, in this case? She more than deserves it.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! It was really a fun one to write.
> 
> Also posted on tumblr - I'm @shirness-says. Come give it some love. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
